The Baby in the Library

Edward D. Anderson. From ‘Wide-Awake’ for May,
1885.

Within these solemn, book-lined walls,
Did mortal ever see
A critic so unprejudiced,
So full of mirthful glee?

Just watch her at that lower shelf:
See, there she’s thumped her nose
Against the place where Webster stands
In dignified repose.

Such heavy books she scorns; and she
Considers Vapereau,
And Beeton, too, though full of life,
Quite stupid, dull, and slow.

She wants to take a higher flight,
Aspiring little elf!
And on her mother’s arm at length
She gains a higher shelf.

But, oh! what liberties she takes
With those grave, learnèd men;
Historians, and scientists,
And even “Rare old Ben!”

At times she takes a spiteful turn,
And pommels, with her fists,
De Quincey, Jeffrey, and Carlyle,
And other essayists.

And, when her wrath is fully roused,
And she’s disposed for strife,
It almost looks as if she’d like
To take Macaulay’s ‘Life.’

Again, in sympathetic mood,
She gayly smiles at Gay,
And punches Punch, and frowns at Sterne
In quite a dreadful way.

In vain the Sermons shake their heads:
She does not care for these;
But catches, with intense delight,
At all the Tales she sees.

Where authors chance to meet her views,
Just praise they never lack;
To comfort and encourage them,
She pats them on the back.